CHAPTER XI
While the car carrying the Secret Service men and Frank and the disgruntled young Bill dashed back to the city, the car with the dynamiters and their terrible load rolled smoothly on toward Camp Knox at Stithton. They were a clever lot, hiding their infernal machines within the very boundaries of the Government camp, and if it had not been for the boys and their wireless, they might have operated forever. The country was so rough, so uninhabited, that the wandering hoboes strolling along the mountain trails so near the camp never raised a question in the minds of the M.P.’s. And luxurious cars bearing pretty women driving back and forth between Louisville and Camp Knox were so numerous that even the people living along the road had ceased to look after them as they passed.
A couple of miles from West Point the car stopped beside the road, and a young woman in sport skirt and sweater jumped out, a book under her arm, and strolled up into a little grove. The car went on. The lady sat down, felt into a silk work-bag for a piece of candy, and fell to reading.
A couple of miles out of Stithton, in a deep gully where the road was bad the car stopped again. There was a long wait, but no one got out, and an airplane far overhead turned and in a series of circles went humming far to the left. When the car started, the plane, strangely enough, was once more high overhead. But the men in the car did not notice that. Airplanes from Stithton were always buzzing around. The Station at the Camp flew from four to six planes all of every day. The man at the wheel looked up in an interested, casual way, and drove his car carefully forward. A half mile from the Camp the car stopped again and a stout man stepped from the brush. He took the driver’s seat, and the man who had been driving crawled over into the tonneau.
In a couple of minutes, two tramps hustled out of the machine, as though they wished to swing free of it before anyone saw them. One of them carried a large bundle carelessly done up in a red bandana of extra size, the other a frayed and torn knapsack.
They strolled leisurely toward the Camp, and the new driver, starting the car, went on, entered the Camp, and stopped at the Adjutant’s office, where he asked for an officer, but who was away on sick leave. The stranger was sorry. They were old classmates, he explained. He was passing through, and thought he would look the Captain up.
The Adjutant was sorry too, but cheered up over the cigar the stranger gave him. Cigars like that were like a patent of nobility. Wouldn’t the stranger like to look over the Camp? The stranger had some time to kill and he would be delighted. The Adjutant joyfully steered him around. When the stranger finally drove off, the Adjutant made haste to lock four more of those amazing cigars in his locker.
Up in the airplane, Ernest sat at the wheel, while Eddie and Dee, each armed with powerful glasses, watched the car far below.
Everything had gone with the utmost smoothness. Thanks to the white panel which Ernest had painted on the top of Frank’s car, he had been able to pick them up without the least trouble. And once on the Dixie Highway he followed the other car easily. Ernest listened to the reports of the boys without interest. He thought that the lady passenger would be dropped in some safe place, and was not surprised at the appearance of the third man.
But when the two hoboes got out and dawdled along toward Camp, the boys and Ernest felt that the plot was unfolding fast. They watched the car enter the Camp, while the tramps trudged along in the rear, and when the Adjutant, after talking to the driver, sallied out with him, Ernest growled. “Now we will have to do all our sleuthing up in the air. We can’t come down and chase those fellows up while that guy is on deck. The very minute the airplane started down to the Field they would come hustling over. That Adjutant is nutty on flying, and this is the only plane out today. Keep your eyes on the tramps, boys!”
He brought the plane directly over the Adjutant’s office and, cloud-high, commenced a series of lazy manoeuvers.
“It is getting near sundown,” he said. “If they don’t know it is me, they will think some of those kids are crazy. They are supposed to come down by four o’clock. Well, they will have to work it out! Do you see the hoboes?”
“They have just turned in at the gate, and are going toward the hill trail,” reported Eddie.
“Wish ’em a pleasant journey!” said Ernest hopefully. “I want them to get wherever they are going before dark. If they don’t suspect us, they will, too, because there is no reason for them to wait for dark. You can’t see a step of that mountain road from the Camp.”
They hung high in the air, watching the two tiny figures, invisible except through the glasses, move ever so slowly up the winding road. Imperceptibly Ernest allowed the plane to settle until with the naked eye they could see the face of the mountain with the dark gashes along the trail here and there, where the openings to the caves smeared the rock. Then a violent start and gasp from Eddie startled Ernest so that the plane ducked.
“Look, look!” he screamed. “There it is! There is the face in the rock! See the eyebrows made of the bushy trees? That was what all the messages and the writing in the book was driving at! I bet there is where the tramps will land!”
“I bet you are right,” said Ernest, no less excited than the boys. “Where are they now?”
“Just coming around the bend! Oh, gosh, they are going to sit down!”
“Well, if they are loaded up with dynamite and infernal machines, I bet they are good and ready to rest,” said Dee.
However, in a couple of minutes the men plodded on and soon, as the boys watched breathlessly, they reached the queer face, and like shadows disappeared and were gone.
“They have gone in, sure as shooting!” exclaimed Eddie in awed tones. “Now what next, Ern?”
“More watchful waiting, kid,” replied Ernest. “Don’t take your glass off that face. If they leave, we will go down and explore. If they stay, we will get some help from Camp and take ’em alive.”
For what seemed an eternity the plane hung there, swinging idly on the air currents, the boys straining their eyes at the glasses.
Then at last, one after another, two figures appeared, stood for a moment, and passed rapidly down the trail. Ernest with a sigh of relief settled a little more and saw the big car of the stranger turn and make rapidly out of the Camp.
Ernest flew over to the landing field and came down. Leaving his plane in the care of one of the men, the three made their way across the Camp.
“Now, remember, boys, not a peep to anyone! We will go sit on the trail, and see if the tramps come down and start toward the highway. Then we will go up.”
In ten minutes the tramps appeared, passed unsuspiciously, and were lost to sight.
“Now!” said Ernest. “Are you ready?” The boys were on their feet in an instant. They swept up the hill, and reached the narrow opening all out of breath. All three had flashlights and Ernest leading, they squeezed inside.
They looked the space over carefully but saw nothing suspicious. Then one after another they wriggled through another small opening into the second and larger room. This too was empty, but Ernest, flashing his light about, brought it to a standstill in one corner.
“The heap of shale!” said Eddie breathlessly.
They went over, and carefully dug into a corner.
“For goodness’ sake, don’t joggle a single pebble!” said Ernest. “You don’t know how they have cached this stuff. Perhaps they have fixed it so if any stranger touches it, it will go off.”
“You are a cheerful chap, aren’t you?” demanded Eddie as he took stone after stone gently from the pile and laid it down behind him.
“It is there!” said Ernest. “Don’t uncover any more of it. Now I tell you what. Are you boys game to stay here with me on guard tonight? If so, I will go down and wireless to Bill, and the Secret Service men can grab the gang back there in Louisville.”
“Of course we are game!” said Dee cheerfully. “Anything that will help to break up this gang goes with me.”
Ernest paused at the opening.
“I will telephone,” he said. “I won’t wireless on account of old De Lorme getting the message game as we have picked up his now and then. Don’t light a light in here unless you have to. No one knows who is prowling around.”
He went off, and the two boys sat down in the inner chamber and whispered together. A cave is never a cheerful spot. Even in daytime it gives you queer thrills and chills, and at night, without a light— Well, Bill and Dee sat close and said little. Every little while they heard strange sounds like someone stepping on the gravel outside. Or sounds inside like sniffles, or grunts, or breathing! Once, near them on the hillside, a fox screamed, and Eddie felt, as soon as he was able to feel anything at all, that his hair had turned white. He could tell by the chilly, creepy feeling at the roots that the damage was done. He wondered what Virginia and Elizabeth would say when they saw his snow-white head.
He thought that he was alone in his terror until he heard Dee whisper shakily: “S-s-s-s-say, E-e-e-eddie, w-what w-was t-that?”
“A fox,” said Eddie, smoothing his pompadour.
“Gosh!” sighed Dee. “I thought it was a woman crying.”
“Naw, that’s only a fox,” said the country-wise Eddie. “They make a fierce racket when they yell.”
“I wonder if that one wants to get in here. Perhaps it has a den in here somewhere,” whispered Dee.
“Shoo!” whispered Eddie hoarsely. He did not care to have a fox galumping in, in the dark. He was not afraid, but he carefully drew in his feet. He knew that Dee’s were well under him. But the sound was not repeated.
When Ernest presently said “Hi!” in the entrance, both boys leaped and then sighed so loudly with relief that Ernest heard them, and laughed. “Not scared, were you?” he asked.
“Naw, of course not!” the boys hastened to assure him, and to change the conversation quickly Eddie asked, “Did you get them on the telephone?”
“Yes. They were waiting to hear from me,” said Ernest, sitting down. “I don’t believe there will be any trouble out there. I am going to sleep. I don’t see any reason for any of us to sit up. There is no suspicion afloat, I will be bound. I brought three blankets up from my quarters, and the floor isn’t hard. It is certainly bone-dry,” he added, kicking up a little dust. “And here are some sandwiches,” taking some parcels out of his pockets.
“I don’t think this is so worse,” grinned Eddie, biting out a neat semi-circle.
Ernest brought in the blankets and threw himself down on the floor.
“We heard a fox screech,” said Eddie, “and you should have seen Dee jump. I thought he would go through the ceiling.”
“Aw, what makes you say that?” objected Dee. “Eddie, here, threw a fit!”
“You both got a good scare, if it was anything like some of the foxes I have heard,” said Ernest, laughing. “Now, let’s go to sleep. I want to get up sort of early because the Secret Service men will be here to take charge of this stuff soon after daybreak.”
“That suits me!” said Eddie, and soon they were all sleeping peacefully.
In Louisville things were happening. Even while the car Frank was driving was still on the Dixie Highway, things happened! The workman opened the bundle that Bill had thrown into the car, and in a few moments there was no workman there at all! Just a well-dressed, kindly looking, middle-aged man with glasses who sat back and looked with interest at the scenery. The two soldiers faded too, and in their places two officers, a Major and a Captain of Infantry, flecked the dust from their boots and exchanged pleasantries.
“Gosh!” said Frank when he had taken in the changed appearance of his passengers. “Wish I could turn into something! Wish I could turn into a millionaire!”
The others laughed. “That’s a hard turn to make,” said the Major. “But we change so often that sometimes it is hard to tell what we really are.”
“I would like to turn into a Secret Service man,” Bill said smiling.
“That is what you are very likely to turn into, my boy,” said the Captain, “if you keep up your present trick of catching dynamiters by the heels.”
“Gee, I would like that!” said Bill longingly. “How do you go about it? What do you have to study?”
“Your daily lessons in High for one thing,” said Frank, laughing.
“Yes, indeed,” seconded the Major. “Lessons in High, and then some! You will use all you can possibly learn and then you will spend a good part of your time kicking because you don’t know ten times more.”
“What are we going to do next?” Bill asked. Remarks about school bored him to tears.
“If you will drive down to the L. & N. Station, I will send the fellows there up to watch the hotel, where the men and the woman are staying. As soon as it is dark we three will call on Mr. De Lorme.”
“Aw,” said Bill pleadingly, “can’t I be in on that? Are you going to arrest him?”
“We are going to try pretty hard,” said the Major, smiling. “Well, it is rather unusual, to be sure, but if you happen to be on the next porch working hard, the way you were this afternoon, we will see what we can do.”
“Aw!” said Bill again. “Aw, I did that for the Cause, Major!”
“Certainly, and I hope you will never have to do anything harder.” He clapped Bill on the back. “Just be there, and see what happens.”
At the L. & N. Station the Secret Service agent who had been the workman went in and presently came out saying that that was all right. And then Frank headed for home, and arriving there, took the three strangers to a room where they made certain additions to their attire in the shape of revolvers and handcuffs. The one-time workman strolled out into the alley a little later as a good-natured looking policeman, who squinted into the garbage pails on the block, to the distress of several well-meaning but forgetful maids who could not remember the hard and fast rule of the city about the division of garbage.
And soon after supper Bill, smooth of hair and rather pale of face, donned white flannel trousers and a clean white shirt, and in this gala attire went down to call on Elizabeth Crowley.